


slipping into the deep end

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, Future Fic, Masturbation, Safeword Use, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The grocery list has always been a point of contention in the Branwell-Lightwood household, and when Isabelle started adding more sexual items to the list, not much changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slipping into the deep end

**Author's Note:**

> title from ruelle's deep end

The grocery list has always been a point of contention in the Branwell-Lightwood household, and when Isabelle started adding more sexual items to the list, not much changed. Rather than strawberries being crossed off because they're out of season, electric play is crossed off because they have brunch with Alec and Magnus the next day, and Lydia would like to still meet her brother-in-law's eyes. (Magnus _always_ knows when they meet after doing a recent scene, and likes to ask how it went along with asking someone to pass the syrup. Lydia doesn't know how he does it and frankly doesn't want to know.)

Nice smelling lotion is on the list today, along with spanking, and Lydia idly wonders who will be spanking who, and hopes neither of their patrols get messy. Nothing kills the mood faster than a recently applied iratze, well- softens the mood at least. 

.

The day goes well, Lydia's partnered up with Raj and he's always easy to work with, tends to think in the same patterns she does. Her leg gets sliced up by one of the demon's tails, but it isn't poisonous, is easily healed. She checks her tablet while they head back to the institute, and Alec's already submitted his report for Izzy and himself, and Lydia's pleased to see Isabelle was not injured. 

She'll have to tell Isabelle of course, but she _might_ just wait until they're already in the bedroom and the chances of Izzy agreeing that it wasn't a serious wound are higher. A paper-cut could look serious under their bathroom's glaring lights, and Lydia ignores the fact that she's being more than a little hypocritical. 

.

“Let me see your leg,” Isabelle demands once Lydia gets home, front door not even closed behind her. 

Lydia raises an eyebrow, “Here? Just think what the neighbors would say.”

Izzy's smile flashes on and off her face quickly, doubtlessly thinking about what the neighbors _already_ say, and Lydia shuts the door, dropping the two bags. Most of it is household supplies, and none of the food needs to be refrigerated; so Lydia ignores her itching fingers that want to put everything away. 

“Raj told me you got hurt, show me.” 

“ _Raj_?” Lydia can't help but asking, unaware when they started to get along much less pass information between them. 

“Uh huh, pants,” Izzy says, coming closer but not touching, and Lydia complies with a dry mouth, taking her heels off too.

The hand on her thigh is expected, but it still makes Lydia startle, shifting her weight like she did it on purpose. Izzy's faintly amused, and her fingers trail over the fresh burn, sighing. 

“You should be more careful,” Isabelle says, kneeling and dropping a light kiss to her thigh. 

“Oh _really_ , Ms. I skip regulations all the time and it's amazing I'm still in one piece?” 

Izzy snorts, standing, the new lotion in her hand. “You're not allowed to sound so much like Alec without pants on.” 

“Maybe give more thought to your defense then,” Lydia says, crossing her arms like it isn't awkward to be standing in their front hall in just her jacket, tank top, and underwear. 

Isabelle rolls her eyes, gently prying her hand away from her arm, and leading her to their bedroom. “I know just the thing to help you relieve some stress.” 

“What if I hadn't found the lotion?” Lydia asks, following. 

“ _My_ wife? Leave a list half finished?” 

“It'd be more like ninety-five percent-”

“Exactly,” Isabelle says with a smile, falling back on their bed, and tugging Lydia down with her. Izzy kisses her, hot and fast and impatient, fingers already working off her jacket. Lydia pulls Izzy's dress off, stretchy enough not to rip, and she hesitates, familiar amazement rolling over her. Isabelle looks more like a siren than a shadowhunter, even with all her runes, in her matching pink lace lingerie and cream heels. Lydia's fingers tremble over Izzy's hip, and the knowledge that Izzy wore this for _her_ \- Izzy tended to prefer more dramatic silk undergarments- takes her breath away. 

And then Izzy's pressing the bottle of cinnamon-vanilla scented lotion into her hand with a positively devilish grin. “Since someone got hurt already, it's my turn tonight esposa.” 

Lydia places the bottle aside, sitting up and crossing her legs. “Alright, over my lap then.” 

Izzy moves fluid and quick, and suddenly Lydia's staring at her lace covered behind- and it's really more uncovered than covered with the lace's gaping holes- and Lydia needs to breathe. 

“So you like these ones?” Izzy asks smugly, and Lydia lands a playful swat, making Isabelle laugh. 

“Yes.” Lydia rolls her shoulders, slipping into the right mindset so this isn't over in seconds, her libido's already ruined a few scenes. (Lydia maintains that if Izzy wasn't so attractive, this wouldn't be an issue.)

“Colors or numbers tonight?” Lydia asks, petting over Izzy's lower back, ass, and thighs. 

“Mmm, just hand spanking?” Izzy asks. 

There's a lovely jade topped cane that immediately comes to mind, but it's too far away, would require Izzy getting out of her lap and it's simply not worth that. “Yes.” 

“Colors then,” Izzy says. 

“Okay, I'm starting,” Lydia says as she always does, and Izzy still muffles a giggle into her arms. Lydia's pretty sure it's Isabelle manipulating her, but she falls for it every time, her first hit a little harder than she intends. Tonight's first hit is where her butt meets her thighs, centered, and Izzy lets out a yelp. 

The next five spanks don't get any noises, on the center of each cheek as Lydia starts to spread a darker blush beneath the panties. Izzy is already wet, and the idea of her orgasming in her pretty pink panties, of rubbing herself off is too much to resist. 

“Touch yourself,” Lydia says. 

Izzy does, her underwear not moving as she rubs over the lace, and Lydia, fuck, she can't-

“I thought you'd like that,” Izzy says, amused and aroused, hips rocking in Lydia's lap. 

Lydia's hand cracks down without warning, and Izzy lets out the most perfect moan. 

“God again,” Izzy says, and Lydia completely agrees, needing to hear that sound at least once more.

She spanks Izzy a set of ten not-quite perfect enough hits, each garnering low groans, a very pretty whine, and a few yelps. She tries lighter slaps next, circling around the edges of her ass, which gets her a breathless, “ _Lydia_.” 

Biting her lip, Lydia keeps trying, she needs to hear it once more, needs to recreate that moment. She's almost too lost in the chase- three hard spanks followed by two quick medium hits doesn't work and neither does alternating a hard slap with a light rub over her burning flesh- when Izzy orgasms with a muffled groan. 

And it's too soon, Lydia still needs to hear it. “Keep touching yourself.” 

“Oh fuck,” Izzy groans, but her wrist keeps moving, her lower body jiggling even more than before, and her moans coming with increasing frequency. A distant part of Lydia's brain registers how absolutely gorgeous her wife is, but all she can think about is that damned perfect _sound_. 

Lydia's hands are aching, her arms tiring, and she pushes the feeling away, tries for a collection of quick and soft hits that slowly increase in intensity. Her fingers tap over Izzy's fingers by mistake, and Izzy's coming again, hips thrashing and a strangled scream escaping her throat. 

Lydia's so close though, so fucking close- her slaps slowing and becoming heavier. 

“Orange,” Izzy says, and maybe that was what Lydia was really listening for, the word cracking through her mind. 

And all Lydia can reply with is, “Red, fuck.” 

She pulls Isabelle up gently, but not gently enough as she winces. “I'm _so_ sorry, I don't know what came over me-”

Izzy kisses the words off her lips, soft and chaste. And god, this is so fucked up, she's supposed to be comforting- aftercare-ing- _Izzy_. This wasn't- she ruined it, by the angel, what if she hadn't stopped? What if Isabelle had wanted her to slow down earlier? She'd been completely out of control, chasing after the memory of some sound like a-

“Hey, stay with me,” Izzy says. “What happened?”

“I lost control, I was hitting you _and I lost control_.” 

“You didn't go too far, I only wanted you to slow up a bit after the second orgasm,” Izzy points out. 

“But I could have, I-”

Izzy's hands are wiping away tears, and that, that explains the burning in her eyes at least. Lydia fights the rest back, and Izzy's arms wrap around her, lightly rocking them back to laying on the bed. 

“Easy,” Izzy says before Lydia can even finish thinking about how she should be caring for Izzy right now. “Let's just cuddle for a bit, okay?” 

“Okay,” Lydia agrees, feeling small. 

“I love you,” Isabelle says, brushing a kiss against her temple. 

Lydia smiles, forcing the self-deprecating thoughts down. They can talk about this more after, when her head's clear. And maybe, they'll take a break from impact play for a bit- or only Izzy will hit her. That sounds safer, easier, better.

“I love you too.”


End file.
